


Handkerchief

by daniko



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: (only implied though), Gen, Mental Instability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 21:08:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daniko/pseuds/daniko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>[Bilbo] had not forgotten the look of the Mountain, nor the thought of the dragon, and he had besides a shocking cold.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Handkerchief

**Author's Note:**

> For [this piece](http://kaciart.tumblr.com/post/63351677056).

_Everything_  was positively dreadful in Laketown: Bilbo had an awful cold, the true magnitude of their quest had finally dropped on him and the dwarves were acting very strangely indeed. They looked half-mad with excitement! Bilbo worried. He didn’t think they remembered the dragon that lay awaiting between them and the hoards of gold Under the Mountain.

Worst of all was Thorin.

The crownless king stood tall, seemed to always be staring North with a wicked glint in his eye. The intensity of his desire grated on Bilbo’s nerves. Sometimes he looked lost inside his own mind; others he seemed taken by a mad fever, he gripped Bilbo tight by the shoulders, blessed his existence and his courage, said many sweet things, but none of them seemed as dear to him as the thought Bilbo was going to steal from Smaug what was rightfully Thorin’s. Of the dwarf from the Road, whose song seduced Bilbo to this Quest, there was only a shade: it was only sometimes that Bilbo could glimpse his dearest friend.

“Here.”

Bilbo startled, glancing at the hankerchief Thorin was holding out in his hand. “W—what?”

> “Your incessant sniffling is distracting!”
> 
> "T—t—thank you!"

Thorin nodded resolutely at him, while Bilbo took the offered object and blew his nose.

“Would that I could make you well at once, Master Burglar.”

Bilbo pursed his lips. “Very kind of you, Master Oakenshield,” he said tersely, as he still wasn’t feeling very generous towards the dwarves and their title for Bilbo. After a moment, however, Bilbo sighed and patted the spot next to him. Thorin sat down. “I will be right as rain as soon as we reach the Lonely Mountain, no reason to worry.”

Thorin nodded, but still he seemed sad, a little aprehensive perhaps, though not of outwordly things like a dragon. He glanced at Bilbo, frowned, and pointedly smoothed the warm blanket Bilbo had thrown over himself; leaving his arm over Bilbo’s shoulders.

They silently stared West and watched the sun go down over the horizon.

**Author's Note:**

> i posted the wrong version at first, i swear to god, it's been weeks and I didn't even notice.


End file.
